


the year is yours (and so am I)

by bottomlinsons (grimgrace)



Series: drabblin' [4]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, And boys being dumb, Kissing, M/M, New Year's Eve, for the record i really really enjoyed writing this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 16:54:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5634076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimgrace/pseuds/bottomlinsons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>theemmed asked: What about High school best friends Harry and Louis sharing their first kiss on New Years?</p>
            </blockquote>





	the year is yours (and so am I)

**Author's Note:**

> Just assume this takes place somewhere where it’s warm over New Years. Like Australia. Lovely, wonderful Australia. 
> 
> warning for underage drinking and drunken kissing

 

Louis’ drunk. He hasn’t been drunk before, so he’s not one hundred percent sure, but he’s pretty sure if someone was drunk this is how it would feel. 

The house, with it’s thumping music and loud conversation, is just a little too much at the moment. It had been to hot in there, almost stiflingly warm, which is why Louis had dragged Harry out to sit in the garden with him. 

Harry is definitely drunk. 

“Lou,” he says. He’s got his head tilted backwards, resting against the brick wall that they’re leaning on. When he looks at Louis he doesn’t lift his head, just swivels his neck, like he’s weighed down by all those curls. He’s so dumb. “Lou, m’cold.” 

Louis sighs and takes off his jacket. He was feeling too hot in it anyway, even in the chilled night air, but that’s not important. It’s the principle of the matter, isn’t it. He reserves the right to grumble a bit. 

Still, he shucks it off his shoulders and hands it over to Harry - very pointedly not thinking about how he’d see Jason Donovan do the same thing for Leslie Corocan half an hour earlier. “There you go, ya knob,” he says. 

Harry blinks down at the jacket in front of him. “I can’t wear this,” he says after a beat. 

“Louis frowns. “What?” he says. “Why the fuck not?” 

Harry shrugs. “Won’t fit.” 

“What the fuck do you mean it won’t fit?” Louis gapes at him.

Harry shrugs and lifts his hand in an odd gesture that refers to his entire body. “Won’t fit,” he says again. “M’too big.” 

Louis definitely doesn’t blush at that. Definitely not. That would be fucking weird. 

And even if he does, it doesn’t fucking matter because he’s too busy puffing up his chest and twisting his entire body to stare at Harry incredulously. 

“Don’t want to stretch it,” Harry finishes. 

He looks peaceful and sleepy and content. 

Louis is livid. 

“Fine.” He snatches the jacket back so violently that Harry jolts a little. “Forget about it then, I don’t want your big dumb shoulders in my jacket anyway - ”

“Lou?” Harry interrupts dozily. “Who’re you gonna kiss?” 

All the breath leaves Louis’ body in one fell swoop. Which is fucking annoying because Louis had literally seen red when Harry had interrupted him and now all the fights drained out of him and his brain’s completely stopped working. 

He gapes at Harry again. It’s a little different this time, though. This time it’s because the thought that’s telling him to close his mouth isn’t quite connecting with his actual mouth - probably because every single inch of him is suddenly devoted to replaying Harry’s words again and again in his head. 

“Wh - ” he breathes out eloquently. “What?” 

Harry smiles beatifically at him. “Tonight?” he says. “At midnight, I mean. Who’re you gonna kiss?” 

Louis wasn’t going to kiss anyone. Probably because he’d actually forgotten that was a thing. Probably because he’d blocked that particular tradition from him mind after having seen Aunt Jodie practically mount Uncle Peter last New Years. Or because he’d only just secured an invite to this party by the skin of his teeth and there was no way in hell anyone here wanted to kiss him. 

Harry rolls his head back, looking upwards and staring at the sky. He doesn’t seem to mind that Louis’ gawping at him. In fact, he hasn’t seemed to notice. 

“I’ve been thinking about it, you know,” he says - and wow, Louis doesn’t want t know that. He didn’t know that he didn’t want to know that, but yeah, there’s suddenly an awfully heavy feeling in his gut that tells Louis that he _really, really_ didn’t want to know that. 

“You have?” Louis’ voice is hoarse. 

Harry doesn’t seem to notice that either. He hums his assent. “Yeah, I have.” 

Louis licks his lips. He doesn’t know why he does that either. Tonight is turning out really, really strangely. “So, uhm,” he says, clearing his throat. “Who are you going to kiss?” 

Harry rolls his head back to look at Louis again. That’s probably really bad for his neck, Louis thinks. Then he doesn’t think anything at all because Harry says, 

“Can I kiss you, Lou?”

and Louis’ brain completely flat lines. 

Like, literally. 

He’s very dimly aware of a countdown happening around him, something telling him urgently that its now or fucking never, but it’s consumed completely by the thought that his best friend wants to kiss him. And even that is overshadowed by the realization that Louis would really, really like it if he did. 

A sudden cheer jolts him from his thoughts, the sounds of everyone inside the house and the crowd that has gathered outside finishing their countdown to raucous celebration. 

Harry is still watching him. Or watching his lips, more to the point. 

“Lou?” he says. “Can I?” 

Louis blinks at him. “The countdown’s finished,” he says, a little numbly. “We missed it.” 

Harry just blinks at him earnestly. “I’d still like to kiss you, I think,” he says. His eyes dart up from Louis’ mouth to meet his gaze for a fraction of a second, before sliding back down. “Is that alright?” 

Louis didn’t actually know how alright that was until Harry suggested it, but now he wants nothing more in the entire world. His heart is thundering in his chest. “Yeah,” he says finally. “Go for it.” 

And Harry kisses him. 

It’s not very practiced but Louis doesn’t know that because he’s never kissed anyone before anyway. All Louis notices, as his eyelids shutter close, is the unbelievable softness of Harry’s lips and the slight tang of alcohol on his breath. It’s nice, it’s so, so nice and the fact that it’s Harry makes it so much nicer. 

It doesn’t last long, no matter how much Louis would like it to. 

Harry pulls back, his eyelids hooded slightly and his lips a startling pink. He hums, then drops his head forward, resting against the crook of Louis’ neck. 

“That was nice,” he says, because they’ve always been on exactly the same wavelength. “We should do that again.” 

Louis brings his hand up to tangle his fingers in Harry’s curls, nodding without even having to think. “Yeah,” he says. “We should.” 

This years gonna be a good one, he thinks. 


End file.
